In Middle Earth

Chapter One-The Arrival

AN; So, I actually wrote this for a buddy of mine when he was having a rough time. I wrote him into the story, but of course, I've changed all the names to protect him and his family. He nearly cried when I gave it to him, so I thought why not share! It's short and relatively simple, but still gives me the warm and fuzzies when I reread it. Hope you enjoy! ;)

I land flat on my back on a patch of, what I hope, is grass. The impact of the fall knocks the breath out of me and I struggle to catch it, along with my bearings. After a few moments of gasping, I'm able to breathe correctly and sit up straight. As I do so, I can observe my surroundings without being distracted by pain. It looks like I'm in a forest, an old, untouched one. It just has that feeling of being pure, of being away from civilization that forests nowadays just don't have. The lack of litter was also kind of a big tip-off.  The forest floor wasn't covered in trash but is covered with the first few discarded leaves of the large trees surrounding me. What happened? Where the hell am I?  I ask myself. I shove my hands in my pockets to see what I've left in them.

I pull out my Star Wars key chain, a few cough drops, and a couple crumpled up bits of paper. Crap, no cellphone. I look around once again, trying to see if I've dropped anything in the fall. The sunlight filters through the tree branches, illuminating a small worn path beside me. I stand slowly while brushing off dirt from my pants. Seeing nothing around me, I step onto the path and look both ways, trying to decide which way to go. Nothing to do but start walking. I shake my head, run a hand through my already messy hair, and start walking to my right. Deeper into the forest I go.

After a few minutes of walking, my frustration and confusion steadily building, I hear a small crack in the woods ahead and to my right. I stop immediately and listen closely. The wind wasn't blowing so I immediately dismiss that theory. It could possibly be a forest animal, like a squirrel or rabbit or something. Yet as the hair on my arms and neck rise, this theory seems less and less plausible.

Someone is nearby and they know that I am here too. I think nervously. I slowly reach a hand in my pocket and hold the small knife I have on my key chain. It's not much protection, but at least it's something. I crouch slightly and approach where I first heard the rustling, but before I reach it, a strong, smooth voice stops me in my tracks.

"Stop, and do not move." I, of course, only half listen and obediently stay in my current position, but turn my head to the voice. At first, I'm befuddled. There's not a soul on the ground behind me. I stand straight up, turning my body towards where the voice emanated from and my eyebrows furrow in confusion. The voice speaks again, "Did you not hear me, human? Do not move!" This time my eyes find the source of the voice and I have a hard time keeping my mouth closed. It's clearly a man, but not. He has long arms, long legs, and a sharp, angular face. His hair is exceptionally long, down to about his waist, and is ice blond with two braids tucked behind his ears. He wears a green and brown old-fashioned tunic, seemingly from the middle ages.

I can see even from this distance his eyes are a striking, lightning blue. How does he not seem like a man? Other than where he is standing, which is at least thirty feet up in a tree, he has one distinctive attribute men do not have; he has pointed ears. "Hold your hands out." His bow is pulled taut, yet my hand tightens on the small knife in my pocket; my only protection. This must be a joke, right? This can't possibly be real. I think to myself. Charlie is probably just playing a prank on me. Clutching tight to this new mentality, I let go of my key chain and hold my hands out with a smile.

"I've got nothing, see?" He jumps from the branch he was standing on and I lurch forward to help him, but he lands gracefully and without taking his hands off his bow. My mouth is now hanging slightly open and I can't stop it. "You shouldn't have been able to make that jump. You should have died, or at least broken your legs." I say quietly, almost to myself. He miraculously hears and his eyes sharpen slightly.